


Flu Season

by firehawk05



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fluff and Crack, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-05-07 19:59:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14678388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firehawk05/pseuds/firehawk05
Summary: Flu season has rolled around.  Fury has tasked Steve with getting the team vaccinated.  Hijinks ensue.  Some bits are quite  crack. You have been warned.





	Flu Season

“We know flu season is coming. We’re all adults here.” Nick Fury levels a particularly malevolent glare at Steve “For once in our little self sacrificing superhero lives, can we all get with the programme and get vaccinated?”

 

“In all fairness Sir, the letters of gratitude we got from saving people from a flying Sokovia didn’t exactly complain about us coughing in their faces…” 

 

“Did I ask for your opinion Rogers?” Fury growls dangerously. 

 

Steve sets his jaw mulishly and shakes his head while Bruce shoots him a sympathetic glance.  “No Sir.” 

 

“So help me.  What do I have to do to get some sort of buy in for this scheme?”  

 

“Sir. With all due respect. It's not the concept of vaccination I’m opposed to. I’ve seen seem kids with polio back in the day. And I’m glad I haven’t had to wake up in this century where the iron lung is still being used. It’s just that, well.”

 

“SHIELD hasn’t had the best track record of being forthcoming about these … interventions.” Bruce interjects. 

 

“Fine. You,” Fury points at Bruce, “you and whoever else you trust can come in on the development team. God knows we’ll probably need to optimize the vaccine for enhanced individuals anyway.  When that part is satisfactorily completed can we stop giving Agent Coulson trouble with the vaccine take up rate?”

 

“We’ll have to see when the time comes.  Sir. ”

 

…

 

“Well Fury did say that I could get anyone I trusted on the development team.” Soft jazz music plays over the cafe’s speakers. They’re in a booth seat in the corner,  just away from the constant hum of activity at the counter. It’s a nice cafe that Charles’ has chosen for their meeting. The best part is he doesn’t recognize any SHIELD personnel lurking around. 

 

“It’s certainly been an honor Dr Banner,” Charles says, smiling over a steaming mug of tea, “But one wonders if there were perhaps other reasons you asked me to come in? Your PhD in biochemistry, to say nothing of your other degrees, is more than adequate for vaccine development.”

 

“Ah. It’s a little… indelicate.” Bruce looks uncomfortable, putting down his coffee. “We just need to be fairly sure that SHIELD isn’t going to…”

 

_ Inject us with something that could incapacitate us, or control us.  I understand. And for the record, you were thinking it quite loudly. It was almost impossible to not hear you. _

 

Charles continues aloud, “And before you correct me, I did mean to say us. We have many young mutants in the Mansion and not all the vaccines on the market are, suitable for our physiology. We have of course done some preliminary work, but I would be more than happy to get my team in to work with yours on this project.”

 

_ I won’t be able to pry too deeply, ethics and all, but if you let me have a chat with the team from SHIELD, I should be able to get a sense of what their motivations are. _

 

Bruce radiates relief as he nods fervently, raising his cup in a toast. 

 

“To a fruitful collaboration then, our teams had precious little of that.”

 

Charles echoes his gesture, smiling 

 

“To collaboration.”

 

…

 

A timer dings in the background. The lab is finally quiet with most of the scientific staff shooed gently but firmly home for the day at Charles’ insistence.

 

_ Wouldn’t want too many civilian casualties in case this doesn’t work the way we think it will.  Also. The Hulk is probably the most resistant to my telepathy. Just saying. If things go.. pear shaped.  _ Charles looks apologetically at Bruce. 

 

“I hope it won't come to that. In any case, it looks like the first batch of vaccine is ready.”

 

Charles wheels himself forward. “I’ve been called a lab rat before” he says, rolling up his sleeve to expose his upper arm. 

 

Steve steps forwards and mirrors his actions.   “Funny you should say that. I’ve been one too.”

 

As Bruce tears open an alcohol swab while heading towards him, Steve can't help tensing up, memories of Erskine’s lab flashing unbidden through his mind. 

 

He looks apologetically at Bruce who tries to calm him saying, “Relax. I’ve done this before.” 

 

“It wasn’t that.” Steve murmurs, even as he catches Charles’ sympathetic look, which quickly morphs into a wince as the needle slides into his own arm. 

 

“There, all done now.” Bruce adds after motioning to Steve to press the swab to the injection site, “there might be some slight pain and tenderness around the injection site over the next 24 hours.  Please tell us if you notice any other untoward effects. If nothing happens over the next week, I guess it’ll be safe to move on to the next phase.”

 

…

 

“Well it looks like nothing untoward has happened.”

 

“Charles agrees, his telepathy remains as strong and as controlled as ever and both your blood tests look good.”

 

“i guess it's time then.” Steve extends a hand to Banner who has started preparing a syringe. “Do you need help with that? I mean I can help if you talk me through it?”

 

Banner waves Steve away.  “You know what. I’ll just inject myself.  It’ll be a lot... easier for all of us that way.”  Then he smiles ruefully saying “I’ll leave you to convince the rest of the team.”  

 

Steve sighs. “You know, that‘s probably the hardest part of this whole exercise.”

 

...

 

“Tony. Please?”

 

“No. Absolutely not. You are not sticking anything that Fury and friends came up with into me.”

 

“If you don't get vaccinated you’ll have to wear a mask.” 

 

The only reply to that is Tony’s visor coming down with a very final clank. 

 

…

 

The door to Clint’s room slides open slowly to reveal nothing other than a rumpled unmade bed. 

 

Steve stands in the doorway, listening intently for the faintest hint of movement. 

 

“Barton? You in there?”

 

Silence. 

 

A soft tap on his shoulder has him spinning around abruptly. 

 

Natasha is standing behind him. An amused look on her face. She presses a long finger to her lips and the question dies on his lips. 

 

A brief sketch of movement draws his eyes to the vents on the ceiling. 

 

Fingers pluck the syringe of vaccine from his hands even as Nat stalks into the room mouthing:

Leave him to me.

 

Steve can’t quite help the feeling of unease as the door slides shut again. 

 

…

 

Later over dinner, a muffled howl of rage emanates from the vents. 

 

Neither Tony nor Nat are anywhere to be seen. 

 

…

 

A vial of vaccine disappears from Banner’s lab the next day.  All that remains in its place is a yellow Post-it note with two neatly printed words.

 

Payback time. 

 

...

 

When a dusty, rumpled and disgruntled pair of assassins finally descend for breakfast Steve doesn't dare ask if they could tackle Tony for him. 

 

He just keeps the pancakes coming. 

 

But thought keeps running through his head.

 

…

 

Steve finally manages to ambush Tony in one of the tower’s innumerable corridors. 

 

“Tony? Not that I want to harp but, would you please just agree? This year’s virus is looking to be quite bad.”

 

“No worries. I’ll take my chances. Anyway, it's not like I gave this virus my address.”

 

“You gave the world your address. On national TV.”

 

“And then I had to move. After someone destroyed the place.”

 

“You’re just gambling. Betting that you won’t get a bad flu this round.”

 

“Hey. Relax. I’m good. I’m the invincible Iron Man. See. It says so right here.” Tony grins and waves a stack of comic books in his face. “Although, I think my armor is so much more stylish than what they depict.  I mean. Vintage is great but…”

 

…

 

“Are you absolutely sure this is necessary?” Thor eyes the huge, glinting needle warily. 

 

“Come on brother. Look at the size of your biceps. Surely a lesser needle could never penetrate all that godly mass of muscle.”

 

“Also. Why are you administering this injection?”

 

“Ah. Because Dr Banner is … indisposed. But. Never fear. He has provided me with clear instructions as to how to administer this vaccine.” 

 

“Oh well. Then it must be ok.” He smiles and flexes a massive arm. “Inject away Brother!”

 

There’s a flash of a brilliant grin as the needle stabs into flesh. He almost feels it scraping against the bone. The pain only ratchetts up as Loki depresses the plunger. Sweat springs from Thor’s brow even as the blood drains from his face. 

 

“Oh no! What can possibly be wrong with you brother? What ever shall I do?” Loki leaps to his feel not even bothering to feign concern before scampering off, a broad grin plastered on his face. 

 

“I’ll go get help!”

…

 

“For the record, I didn't do anything other than use a larger gauge needle. There was no need to”, Loki squirms, testing the ropes before settling for flicking his fingers irritably at the ropes binding him face down on the narrow pallet “overreact like this.”

 

“Oh no brother. This isn’t me overreacting.” Thor smiles cheerily as he waves a syringe. The needle glints in the light. It’s a suspiciously large needle. 

 

“I don't think you need to have bothered. It's not like I’m as ripped as you.”

 

“Oh. This is necessary”, even as a heavy hand comes to rest on his bottom. A sheen of sweat springs forth on Loki’s brow. 

 

“I assure you brother. There is really… no need.” He sounds disdainful but a frisson of fear makes his voice quiver.

 

Thor smiles as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of his brother’s pants and pulls downwards, noting with some satisfaction, the nervous clenching of muscles. 

 

“Oh yes it is. Because as they say on Midgard. Revenge is sweet.”

 

…

 

An annoyed Bruce intercepts him just outside the lab. Screams of rage echo behind him, screams which are only marginally muffled by the closing of the door. 

 

“There are scientific papers discouraging injection of vaccines into the buttocks.” Banner waves his hand and mutters something about thicker skin folds before realizing that he’s sidetracking himself and continues in a louder voice “Also. He’s not an Avenger. So technically he doesn’t count.”

 

“Oh. Oops.” Thor looks unrepentant. 

 

…

 

Alone in his suite of rooms in the tower, Steve stares at his reflection for a long time before gritting out. “That’s it Rogers. we’re past asking permission.”

 

A crisply accented voice from the speakers “Captain Rogers? I’m afraid any course of action you might take with regards to vaccination will no longer be necessary.”

 

“Jarvis?”

 

“I would be happy to offer assistance but from my readings of Mr Starks vitals, it appears he is unwell.”

 

Steve huffs a sigh as he strides towards the door.

 

“You will find him collapsed by his bench in his lab. I will let you in.”

 

“Thank you for alerting me.”

 

“It is my pleasure Sir but I am merely doing as my emergency override protocols dictate. At this point Sir is the only other person authorized to enter the lab.”

 

…

 

Tony meant to tell a certain Captain Tightpants to stop fussing over him and that it was only a bit of a cold.  Unfortunately, because of a combination of a blocked nose and a sore throat, he can only manage a hoarse croak instead of his usual snark. 

 

“Steeeb. Stop fussing.”

 

“Be quiet and go to sleep Tony.” Steve turns an exasperated look on his flushed and febrile teammate wondering what was it about this season's flu that turned fully grown men into whiny clingy octopodes. 

 

“Bud.  Steeeeb. I dond feel good.” Tony burrows his face into Steve’s side, “ and you feel nice.”

 

“It must be time for your paracetamol.” Steve makes as if to move which only makes Tony cling tighter to him. Steve sighs and slings Tony over his shoulder like a sack of grain before crossing the room to get the pills and water. 

 

As he lowers Tony back into his rumpled nest of blankets, he can’t quite help one last barb. 

 

“You could have avoided this you know.” 

 

Stark makes a face at him as he swallows the meds and flops back onto the bed. “Bleah.  But you didnd have to rub it in.” 

 

“If I have to nurse anyone through a fever more time, because some arrogant manchild refused vaccinations, I’m going to … request … that the doctors prescribe suppositories.” Steve mutters darkly. 

 

“Face it Steeb.” He should have looked contrite. But instead there’s a shit eating grin on Stark’s face “You just like shoving things up my …”

 

“Go to sleep.”

**Author's Note:**

> References to Infinity wars with mangled and re-purposed quotes.   
> And the scientific paper that Bruce referred obliquely exists, or at least a google search turns up some results.


End file.
